


Living Nightmares

by starrywolf101



Series: Fake Faces [4]
Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Evil, Evil Plans, Experimentation, Harm to Children, Head Injury, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Late at Night, M/M, Nightmares, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scheming, Self-Harm, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 06:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17575847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrywolf101/pseuds/starrywolf101
Summary: Flug is up tinkering late at night when a simple sound sets off an unfortunate panic attack.





	Living Nightmares

The ticking of the grandfather clock filled the silence that the night brought. Tapping echoed through the dimly-lit laboratory. Dr. Flug Slys tinkered with his latest project. Blueprints littered every flat surface in the room; either messily discarded or neatly rolled up. His brilliant mind was both a blessing and a curse. He was able to conjure visions of devious machinery; each thought being a beauty just begging to be given form and flesh of its own. Though, sometimes, he couldn't turn it off, forcing him to draw more blueprints at the most random times.

The current idea begging to be born was some sort of man-made super virus. One that begged to devour the human body from the inside out; starting with all the tissues and fats that weren't needed to survive, and slowly making its way towards the victims heart; keeping the person alive, yet in torturous pain, up until the very last moments.

A shiver of pleasure ran up his spine at the awful, horrific thoughts that ran through his mind. At least he had the sense to engineer the tiny killer to die after killing the host, not able to spread to others. He didn't need to cause the end of the human race, not yet at least.

As Dr. Flug clinked the small vials together, something about the tinks of glass sent an unpleasant tremor through his whole body. A twisted nightmare bubbles up from his deep subconscious… no… not a nightmare, but a memory.

A shadowy face cackles at him, at his failures. Flug felt himself get winded, as if he'd been kicked in the gut. Flug grips his desk hard after securing the deadly vials. He stayed frozen for a few moments until he was sure the face was fully gone. The lack of sleep must've been catching up if he was delusional enough to be seeing things. Dr. Flug pushes himself out of his chair, but nearly falls back into it as he hears unintelligible shouting in his left ear. The familiar, yet garbled, words had caught him completely off guard. The deep male voice that had shouted instilled panic into the scientist.

The sight of a small boy curled up on the ground sent his legs into action as he started walking backwards, bumping into a different table. A glass shattered behind him, causing a shriek to pull itself from Dr. Flug's throat. He jumps out of his skin and quickly turns around to find that he had broken an empty beaker. “Pull yourself together!” Flug growls to himself.

“What did I tell you about makin’ a mess?” The deep voice growls out with that heavy southern accent. 

“I-I didn't mean t-too…” Flug finds himself reciting with the fear all to real and prevalent. 

“What did I tell you about talkin’ back, hmm? Now your in double the trouble.” The voice snaps back. “On your knees!” 

Flug follows the order in both the memory and the real world. He finds his back against the wall, anticipating the oncoming pain. The man kicks him to the ground and smashes his skull against the hard floor, again, and again, and again…

Flug can't help but to hit his own head against the metal-plated wall. The pain drowned out by his piercing cries. When his episode finally ends, Flug can't help but to sigh in relief. He reaches a hand to the back up his head to find his hair matted with fresh, sticky blood. Flug pulls the paper bag off, exposing his face and light brown hair, and disposes of the bag.

Flug quickly locks up the virus experiment so that Demencia couldn't get her infuriating claws on it and heads to his rarely used bedroom. He needed to clean up and get some actual sleep. Flug decided that he would be avoiding late nights for a while.


End file.
